


Converge

by Whreflections



Series: 30 Winchester Brother snapshots [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Survival Training, Teenage Winchesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-24
Updated: 2012-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 22:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whreflections/pseuds/Whreflections
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John gives them training missions all the time, but there's something about this one Dean just doesn't agree with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Converge

**Author's Note:**

> 25\. Converge

“Dad, no, come on, he’s just a kid still, ok? He’s-“  
  
“So were you!” John Winchester took a deep breath, lowered the gun he was cleaning onto the desk and lowered his voice just a little. “Listen, I know you’re worried about him, he’s your brother. You look out for him, and you  _should_ , hell, I can’t you enough how important that is.  _But_ -“ He held up a hand, kept Dean from cutting him off. “This work is dangerous, and Sammy can’t always be expecting you to come running in and save him. You two work pretty well as a team, but it’s past time you worked well alone, too.” His attention flicked back to the gun, lifting it into his hands again. “He’ll be fine. I know right where he is, and we’re totally alone out here. You think I woulda let him go if I hadn’t checked the area?”   
  
Dean shoved his chair back, paced by the door. Whether the area had been checked or not, the idea of his 13 year old brother out there alone was driving him crazy. Sure, Dean had been doing more at his age but that was different.   
  
“Look, I get it, we need to work separate, but I can! You know I can! And Sammy, he-“  
  
“The more time you waste arguing with me, the more daylight you lose on your own case.”   
  
They’d had lots of different ‘practice’ maneuvers over the years, and this was John’s recent favorite. Take them out somewhere secluded, give the boys instructions and make them go through the motions of working a fake case, down to pretending to realistically kill their monster. It was a way of giving them almost on the job training without the danger, and he checked in every now and then from a distance, treated each fake case as a life or death situation. Meaning there was hell to pay when they screwed up.   
  
Really, Dean was  _supposed_  to leave an hour ago, but he didn’t like this idea of being separated and he just couldn’t let it go. Frustrated, he stopped at the desk, hands tightening over the back of a cheap motel chair. “ _Dad_ , he-“  
  
“Get going.” He’d been somewhat tolerant up until now, but that tone brooked no argument.   
  
Dean sighed, his head hanging just a little. “Yes sir.” Without a look back, he swung his bag over his shoulder and headed out the door.   
  
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’   
  
It was dark by the time he found Sam’s camp and he eased up almost quiet, careful to break a couple sticks just before he got there to make sure Sam knew someone was coming. The kid was nervous, twitchy, and he leapt to his feet, gun in hand.   
  
“Whoa, Sammy!” He held his hand up, stepped forward and into the firelight. He could literally see Sam’s shoulders sag a little with relief, and his anger at his dad ratcheted up just a little bit higher. He smirked, kicked one of the rocks Sam had hauled over into a little better position before sitting down on it, close to the fire. “Gettin’ pretty good there, quick draw.”   
  
Sam’s lips curved up just a little, a smile almost catching before he shot Dean a look that he could tell was meant to portray self sufficiency but came off just looking pissy instead. “What are you doing here?”   
  
Dean shrugged. “The hell does it look like I’m doin’ here?” Sam had a sandwich cut in halves in his lap and Dean zeroed in on it, stretched one hand out, fingers beckoning. “Gimme. Friggin’ long hike up here, man, I’m starved.”   
  
Sam shot him another look, didn’t touch the sandwich. “He told us we were doin’ this one alone, Dean.”   
  
“Heard it the first time, thanks.” He stretched his hand out a little farther. “ _Sammy_. Food? Please?”   
  
He sighed, picked up half but didn’t hand it over quite yet. “Dad’s gonna be pissed when he finds out you-“  
  
“You let me worry about dad.” He leaned across, pulled the half sandwich out of Sam’s hand and shoved as much of it as he could into his mouth in one bite.  _God_  it was good. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast.   
  
He looked to see Sam shaking his head, almost smiling. “You’d have had dinner if you wouldn’t’ve eaten what dad gave you already.”   
  
He hesitated, licked his lips and took another bite, forced the twinge he couldn’t help to the back of his mind. “Psh, I had better stuff to pack than sandwiches. You’ll see.” Truth was, he hadn’t had a choice. Dad had never packed food for him, not on trips like this. He’d always told Dean he needed to be man enough to think of it himself, and if he didn’t, he could just go hungry to remind him not to forget next time.   
  
“Oh really? I’m supposed to believe  _you_  didn’t want-“  
  
To shut him up, he shoved his hand down in his bag, felt around till he felt plastic and chucked the bag of gummy bears at him across the fire. “Here. Go ahead.” Dean shoved the last bite into his mouth, dusted his fingers off on his jeans. “So…what’re we lookin’ at?”   
  
“Dean, I’m not sure this is-“  
  
Exasperated, he leaned forward, his voice rising. “Just stop it, ok? It doesn’t matter what he told us, it was shit, alright? And we can  _prove_  that. We work both of these, we get ‘em done faster together, and he won’t have much to complain about.” Well, that was a lie. Mostly. He’d complain less but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be in deep shit.  _He_  at least would be in deep shit, even if Sam wasn’t.   
  
Sam leaned back against the log behind him, rested one arm against his knee and bit off the head of a gummy bear, smiling a little proudly. “You can look the stuff over, but I’m pretty sure it’s a witch, working lost hikers.”   
  
Dean nodded, already planning. “Meaning we need wrought iron.”   
  
“ _Consecrated_  wrought iron.”   
  
“You really are the world’s biggest nerd, you know that?” He was looking into the fire as he said it, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Sammy grin.   
  
“And you’re a jerk.”   
  
“Bitch.” Sam laughed, and Dean let himself smile. Yeah, hell to pay or not…this was how it was supposed to be. 


End file.
